Old Salt

There's life in the old salt-dog yet,
Blue water blue skies,
Summers morn summer breeze,
And sea birds cries.
Never too old to stretch the bones,
Eyes still searching for the  shift,
A quick tac from the wayward line,
Gives the boat a needed lift.
Salt spray catching rainbows,
Dolphins on the bow,
A white water trail in the wake,
No one can catch us now.
Grandkids on the beach,
Urge their grandpas on,
More races yet to come,
Before the summers gone.